


Flashfire Week Drabbles

by windyjeans



Category: Doctor Who, Ghostbusters - All Media Types, Team Fortress 2
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, Ghostbusters AU, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-29
Updated: 2015-12-29
Packaged: 2018-05-10 02:33:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5565931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/windyjeans/pseuds/windyjeans
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A few one-shots I wrote for shadowenza's Flashfire Week back in July that I have been too lazy to put up here.</p><p>Day 1: Hurt (and Comfort)<br/>Day 2: AU<br/>Day 4: Doing Something Together</p><p>The crossovers are on days 2 and 4.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Day 1: Hurt (and Comfort)

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! So.... it's been like? 5 months? since I wrote these?? Oops. I've been more lazy than reluctant to put these up - but hey, college is hard, y'all.
> 
> These got a little popularity over on tumblr so I finally figured I should put them up on here! Enjoy!

The Scout stared at the calendar in disbelief, his quick blue eyes following the rows of red _x_ ’s until he reached today’s date: June 20th.

Father’s Day.

A familiar sense of dread filled his chest as he turned away from the calendar, the wall, and (an attempt to turn from) old issues. Certainly something as simple as not having a father in his life shouldn’t bother him anymore.  He was a grown man, and a hired killer to boot; he was 22, for Christssake!  Only _children_ let themselves get worked up over a silly issue such as this, and the Scout wasn’t a child anymore.  He wasn’t that scrappy kid on the street with his brothers, playing baseball while trying to not hit any of the cars around them, playing until it got late and the lights from downtown Boston would bar any stars to appear in the sky, and when all the fathers of the neighborhood would come home from work and their kids would rush up to th-

The young man shook away the ramblings in his head and promptly exited his room.  He didn’t need to deal with thinking about sad things like that.  Maybe he’d call his Ma though; God knew she could stand to hear a friendly voice on a day like today.  The Scout figured that he’d worry about that later – for now, it was Sunday, and that meant training day.  Normally, the fact that he couldn’t have a _single day off_ would piss him off to no end, but now he was pretty happy to have something to occupy his mind with.

But, the closer he got to the training grounds, the less he felt like doing anything.  It seemed that he was going to be unable to escape his thoughts.  Why did his dad run off like that? Didn’t he care about him or any of his brothers? Or Hell, didn’t he care about his _Ma_? His father had to be a new level of selfish if he didn’t really care about something like his entire family! _If the Scout ever got his hands on him he’d_ -

The Scout bumped into another body in the hallway while not thinking about where he was going, scaring the crap out of him and waking him up from his bad thoughts.  It was the Pyro, who didn’t seem mad about the Scout running into him and what sounded like small laughs could be heard from behind his mask.  The Scout grimaced, wanting to get out of a conversation with anyone, even if it was the Pyro.  He didn’t feel very good and just wanted to get away.

“Oh.  Hey Py,” he mumbled, not making direct eye contact with the man in front of him.  He always felt uneasy whenever his friend wore that mask outside of battle.  It was like the firebug didn’t have a face underneath. Perhaps the Bostonian was spoiled a little, seeing as he was the only one on base that the Pyro felt comfortable enough with to take off his mask when spending time together (a fact that he’d known for a while now).  Conversations were difficult with the mask separating them, especially when he didn’t want to talk to anyone in general.  “L-look, I’m not feelin’ so hot right now.  Maybe we can talk latah?”

The Pyro cocked his head slightly to the left, an obvious sign of confusion.  A concerned-sounding strain of murmurs snaked their way out of the rubber mask, but the Scout took no time in translating them.  He smiled sadly to his friend and shook his head, waving off the concern with a flick of a wrapped wrist.  “Nah, don’t worry about it.  I gotta go – but uh, I’ll see ya around, ‘kay?”

He ran off without another word, unaware of the Pyro’s gaze following him as he turned the corner.

——

It was late afternoon before the Scout decided on a spot to “hide” with his thoughts.  He chose the roof of the base, a place that most of the mercs didn’t bother climbing up to and the Scout knew that with it being Sunday, there was a good chance that he would be left alone there.  The young man trapezed up the several slants and beams that made the pathway up to the roof, finally climbing the ladder that lead to the part of the roof that he wanted to sit on.  The runner sat on the tiles and crumpled into himself, desperately trying to calm himself down so he didn’t look weak or (God forbid) start crying.  So what if he didn’t have a dad? Who really needs a dad anyway?

Right?

Oh, who was he trying to kid.  He always felt awful on this day and here, hundreds of miles away from home, he had no one to talk to about it, not like he had back in Boston. His brothers were all in the same boat as him and always lent him an ear; cut him some slack on this one day of the year. Now he had no one and it was _terrible_.  But maybe here on the roof, nobody would find him and he’d be able to feel sad in peace.          

“¡ _Oiga_ , Scout!”

The slightly raspy voice made the runner jump in surprise. He had to quickly grab onto the tiles of the roof to keep himself from slipping off, his heart pounding.  It wasn’t because he was afraid of death.  Sure, they had respawn, but it hurt like hell and he really did not want to explain why he’d been on the roof in the first place.

He turned, after he’d resettled himself on the roof, to find the Pyro standing on the top rung of the ladder.  The firebug had removed his mask and was smiling sheepishly at the Scout.  

“Hey, man, I’m sorry.  Can I come up? I was worried about you after you ran off earlier and…” The small smile quickly became a grin, “I brought some of my _secret stash,_ ” he bribed, holding up a brown bag in one of his gloved hands.  The _secret stash_ , the Scout knew all too well, was just coconut candy that the Pyro brought from back home in Puerto Rico, but damned if it wasn’t the best candy he’d had in a long time.  He also knew all too well that his friend was very protective of it, and the fact that he was sharing it could only mean that he genuinely wanted the Scout to feel better. The Bostonian couldn’t help but smile, waving an arm in invitation.

“Yeah, c’mon up.”

There was a shuffling and the distinct sound of rubber boots squeaking before the Scout felt the Pyro plop next to him, the same silly grin on his face.  The bag was thrust excitedly under the runner’s nose, and he could smell the sweet candy that was inside.  He took a few of the little brown-yellow squares and muttered a quick thanks before plopping one into his mouth, savoring the warm flavor.  He already felt better after eating just one.

There was a moment of comfortable silence between the two, just munching on the candy and watching the sun set below the horizon. It was nice to have somebody around, the Scout had to admit, and the candy was a nice bonus.  Maybe this wasn’t so bad -

“I know why you’re feeling sad, Scout,” the Pyro stated nonchalantly, grabbing another _dulce de coco_ to eat.  The Scout blinked, caught unaware of the Pyro’s sudden change in mood.  He stared at his teammate and cleared his throat nervously. There was no way he was going to admit feeling sad to _anyone,_ even if it was the Pyro.

“Uh, I don’t think ya d-“

“ _No seas pendejo._ I know what day it is, man.”  The firebug sternly stared at the Scout head on, his brown eyes boring into the Scout as if he could read his mind.  “You know, I don’t have a dad either.”  The Bostonian felt his breath catch in his throat and, God, were those tears forming in his eyes? Yes, and he could feel one threatening to fall down his face.  There was someone whom he felt comfortable talking to that was in the same situation as him here.  He could hardly believe it.

“R-really?” The Scout stuttered, still in disbelief.  His cheeks felt hot with surprise and slight embarrassment as the tears began to stream down his face.  The Pyro’s expression changed drastically and he suddenly hugged the Scout, bringing him close in an attempt to make him feel better.  The runner was caught by surprise once again, shifting as the Pyro held him closer.  His friend smelled like burnt toast and the coconut candy – an odd combination but somewhat comforting in this situation.  Gloved hands traveled up and down the Scout’s back and bulky arms held him in place as he cried.  He didn’t even care that he was crying any more.

What felt like hours passed until the two finally separated, the Pyro holding back a laugh at the Scout’s red-rimmed eyes and (now) messy hair.  Both grabbed more of the candy and began to talk about their lives in their respective homes, not really minding that they were breaking the rules, but wanting to better understand each other.  They talked until the sun went completely behind the desert floor.  Both had to sneak to their rooms without being caught, so as to avoid explaining where in the world they were.

The pair reached the Scout’s room and the Pyro pulled him in for another quick hug, but this time the Scout could have sworn that he felt a light brushing of lips against his cheek as the other man pulled away. A violent blush spread across his face and the Pyro just grinned with a “feel better, _Cariño_ ”  before sliding his mask back on and striding down the hallway, leaving a confused, surprised Scout staring at him as he left.  Maybe he’d have a different kind of feeling to associate with this holiday, the Scout mused as he slid into his room, plopping onto his bed immediately, and trying (failing) to not think about how nice the Pyro’s arms felt around him as he fell into a deep sleep.


	2. Day 2: AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Honestly this chapter came about because I'm a huge dork and there are like, no Ghostbusters AUs - so I had to take action.
> 
> You shouldn’t need any prior knowledge of Ghostbusters to read this other than, you know, they fight ghosts. That’s it really! 
> 
> Enjoy! 
> 
> (p.s. I used “real” names in this fic so Luis = Pyro and Mark = Scout, just so you know lmao)

It had started out as a joke after Luis had seen the posters hanging all over the quad on campus. It was something that he wasn’t really planning on doing during his summer because, honestly, it seemed ridiculous.

Join the Ghostbusters? The group of paranormal investigators that used to come up on the evening news? Please. But the more that he looked into it, watching videos of them online and reading as much as he could about their methods of ghost containment and capture, the more Luis thought that maybe such a joke could be a reality. Hunting down ghosts would certainly be much more interesting than wasting the day away behind a fast food counter anyway.

So, after a lot of thought and throwing fears into the wind, he’d traveled to the Albuquerque branch office, dragging along his boyfriend, Mark (which was kind of a miracle that he’d been able to convince Mark to come with him, but after telling him that he’d be able to shoot things, Mark was all for it. Typical.). There was an interview process, naturally, but the team seemed to love the fact the Luis tended to think out a plan first (in contrast to Mark’s ability to think on his feet) and his propensity to learn things quickly. The financial director of the company liked Mark’s tendency to never be satisfied with a deal, leading to haggling that could be in their favor on a bust. The two were hired not long after they’d been interviewed and began their training – how to use the proton packs and aim the rifles, how to set and activate the traps, how to identify different types of ghosts, things like that. It took a while for the both of them, but they got the hang of it eventually. Now all that there was left to do was to wait for an assignment to come in that would be the best for them, seeing as they were brand new.

It seemed like years before they were finally ready to go out and capture their very own ghost, all by themselves. It was a hot June afternoon when the assignment phone rang, one Mrs. Jane Tonabee on the other end. Her house had been plagued for the last few months with objects moving by themselves, weird unexplained noises, and spots where the temperature would change dramatically. The team determined that it was a Class 2, nothing too major, and perfect for the two rookies to go and capture on their own. Luis and Mark were ecstatic to finally be able to go out into the field after training for so long.

Although, Luis mused, driving one of the company cars down the streets of Albuquerque, maybe he wasn’t as ecstatic as he originally thought he’d be. He didn’t consider until he was halfway to the call that he’d be facing an actual ghost of all things, and training could only prepare him so much. For what the guys called a “standard zap and trap” it certainly felt that it wouldn’t be so standard for the two of them. The whole thing sounded easy enough in theory and even in practicing under professional supervision, but damned if the whole thing didn’t seem horrifying out all by himself. Well, really, he wasn’t alone with Mark there, but he still felt a little uneasy. Speaking of Mark…

The young man was abnormally quiet in the passenger seat of the car, looking out of the side window with an almost sickly tint to his face. Luis frowned, concerned about his boyfriend.

“Hey, you okay?” he asked, trying to take his eyes off the road for a second.

Mark jumped a little, as if startled, and snapped his head over to Luis. “Uh, yeah! Duh, nevah bettah. This is gonna be a piece of cake!”

They’d been dating long enough for Luis to know that that was code for: “Oh my God, I’m so afraid! How could I go through with this? Why did you drag me along in this, etc. etc.” Luis couldn’t help but smile, turning down the road that Mrs. Tonabee’s house was on. He hummed a sarcastic sort of agreement and ignored the scathing look that Mark shot him. There was another silent moment before Mark sighed wearily and looked out the window again. “Okay, so I’m a little afraid. But anyone would be, ya know? I’m just scared that we’re gonna fail.”

Luis frowned a bit, then turned to look at Mark, even if it was only a quick glance. “Hey, even if we fail, we’re in this together, right?” Luis watched as Mark’s face lit up dramatically, and how he sat up just a little taller in his seat.

“Yeah!”

They pulled into the driveway of the house with a new-found confidence that they mustered in just a few minutes. Mrs. Tonabee turned out to be a sweet old lady who was more than happy to show them around once she’d invited them in. A quick sweep of Mark’s PKE meter didn’t show any signs of activity in the places that the woman had shown the two investigators, which was a little troubling. They would have to do a more thorough search of the house if they were going to find anything, it seemed, and they ushered Mrs. Tonabee out with an assurance that they would do their best to find out what was haunting her (without mentioning the fact that this was their first run by themselves). The old woman understood completely and smiled, claiming that she had errands to run anyway. 

Luis and Mark traveled from room to room, PKE meter in hand, to try and figure out just where the Hell this specter was hiding. If it was indeed a Class 2, it was probably going to be tricky to find and would make the entire job incredibly more difficult than it should have been. A loud sort of bang came from somewhere in the house and Mark jumped, instinctively grabbing Luis’ hand in the dark. The Puerto Rican grinned and gripped Mark’s hand tighter, reassuring him that it was okay to be scared, even in the middle of a call. Mark seemed to calm down a bit, but didn’t let go.

And so, the couple moved through the house, and while Luis theorized that there would have been a better chance of them being able to find the stupid thing if they split up and investigated the rooms alone, the way that Mark was shaking next to him told him that that wasn’t going to happen any time soon. Minutes passed, and still nothing on the PKE. 

“Hey,” Mark whispered, loosening his grip from Luis’ hand, “maybe it was a false ala-“

Just then, the meter went nuts, lighting up like a Christmas tree. Mark promptly dropped the device, complaining that the metal had gotten too hot for him to hold anymore. Sure enough, tendrils of smoke were quickly floating up from the meter, showing just how hot the thing had gotten in a matter of seconds. Before Luis could mutter a what the Hell, the fireplace directly in front of them suddenly burst into a creepy blue flame, so bright that the young men were nearly blinded. Both fell onto the wooden floor, only to look up at the being that materialized in front of them. The best way to describe it would be a blob of some sort, as sickly blue as the flames behind it, drooling incessantly from behind a row of dangerous looking teeth. This thing looked too big and nasty to be a Class 2, but Luis was too stunned to even think about what it could have been instead. The sounds coming from the ghost were something between cackling and a strange sort of wheeze that made Luis sick to his stomach. He didn’t dare look over at Mark but he knew that he must have been just as afraid.

“Oh,” Luis started, reaching hesitantly for the proton pack’s rifle behind his back.

“Shit,” finished Mark, still too shocked to move.

The specter chose this as the time to attack, going for Mark, who was not prepared and was thrown back behind the phantom, crashing into the wall. Luis yelled out but didn’t do much else as he revved up the rifle to blast the ghost. A bright stream of red and blue blasted out from Luis’ pack, and thanks to all of the practice he’d been through, his aim was perfect. The beam hit the ghost dead on and it screeched a horrible sound that chilled Luis to the bone. Even though his aim was perfect, his intensity behind it was lacking and the ghost managed to break free. It flew all around the living room, crashing things to the ground and causing a general ruckus. Luis grimaced as he set up another shot for the ghost. Mrs. Tonabee seemed like a nice lady but he wasn’t so sure that she’d appreciate her house being partially destroyed. 

Again, Luis’ aim was good, but the specter was ready for it and moved out of the way at the last second. The beam hit the wall behind it and left awful scorch marks in the wallpaper. Luis cursed under his breath and wondered how in the world he was supposed to keep the thing still if it was ready for him. Just then, he saw Mark standing very still right behind the ghost, rifle in hand, eyes as wide as dinner plates. He glanced at Luis for just a moment and Luis did his very best to smile and assure him that he could do it. Mark’s face grew very serious and he nodded, also aiming right for the blue blob. With a confidence that really didn’t surprise Luis at all (he knew that he was ready all along), Mark blasted the blob from behind, catching it by surprise and rendering it motionless. Luis responded with his own blast.

“The trap, Mark! The trap!” Luis shouted over the ghost’s loud screeches. Mark nodded once again and threw the small yellow and black box directly under the specter. The young man stomped as hard as he could onto the trigger and the box opened with a brilliant light. A cone of white light surrounded the ghost and it screamed even louder, a sound that Luis was certain he’d never get used to. The ghost was pulled closer and closer towards the box until it finally disappeared with one last shriek, the box’s doors shutting tight behind it.

The room was silent except for the quiet beeping coming from the now full trap.

Luis looked at Mark, and Mark looked at Luis. There was a moment of shocked silence between them before they popped up from the ground, hollering and cheering and hugging each other. “We did it! We did-“ Luis’ cheers were silenced by a quick kiss to the lips from Mark, which he returned rather enthusiastically. They pulled away from each other and grinned, Mark leaning down to grab the trap from the ground. Luis watched him and noticed a small blue sheen on his jumpsuit.

“Looks like that thing slimed you, man,” he noted, trying to dust some of it off of Mark. Mark looked at him with a gleam in his eyes that Luis couldn’t identify, but knew that something stupid was about to come out of his boyfriend’s mouth.

“Ya know, if you wanna be covered in… heh, heh, slime, I’ve got somethin’ in mi-ow! Hey!” Luis punched him in the arm slightly, stopping the bad joke before Mark could finish it. “Yeah okay, okay, that was a pretty bad joke. I’m not too proud to admit it.” They laughed, bringing the steaming trap with them outside, wondering just how the Hell they were going to tell Mrs. Tonabee that they kind of trashed her living room. But for now, they were going to bask in victory and their first successful capture as (albeit interns, but still) Ghostbusters.


	3. Day 4: Doing Something Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And finally, here's a fluffy little oneshot about these two watching Doctor Who together, because I KNOW that these dorks probably love sci-fi haha

“So… this guy’s got two hearts?”

“Yeah, he’s an alien.”

“N’ he time travels and shit?”

“Yep. He can go to different planets, too.  The blue box is his ship.”

“Wicked.”

The Pyro smiled, happy with how interested the Scout was watching the television.  This was a pastime between the two of them, sitting together and watching shows on the TV that the Scout had snuck into his room (which the Pyro had no clue as to _how_ he did this, but he’d learned not to question things anymore).  Normally they would watch baseball or whatever silly sitcom they could coax the television into focusing but after the Engineer had installed a special antenna to the base, they were able to get signals from all over the place, even from the UK, like this strange show they were watching now. The only reason the Pyro knew so much about this show was after hearing about how it was kind of similar to _Star Trek_ (one of his favorites), he gave it a watch when he could find it on television and ended up watching a long marathon – he was an old pro at this point.  He didn’t even mind all of the Scout’s questions.  It just meant that he was interested and wanted to know more. The Pyro appreciated how much the Bostonian wanted to like the same things he did.  It was cute!

The two mercenaries were snuggled close together on the Scout’s bed, wrapped up in a scratchy, brown blanket and trying their best to share the bowl of popcorn evenly between the two of them.  The screen illuminated their faces in the dark of the bedroom, its faded colors barely visible on the old screen.  The Scout laughed at the Doctor’s recorder playing and the Pyro noted how adorable he was when he laughed; his nose would scrunch up and he’d smile a sort of leer-ish grin – very childlike.  The firebug snuggled closer to the runner, blushing when he felt the Scout’s arm pull him closer under the blanket.  This was cozy, so different from their job of gunshots and fire.  It was nice to settle down for a night and relax.

As the hour got later, the popcorn eaten, and the next episode came on, the Pyro felt the Scout gradually lay his head onto his shoulder, his breathing slow and measured. The Pyro bit back a chuckle and tried not to move too much.  The Scout fell asleep on him! Well, he really should have seen this coming.  It had been a long work day and he knew that if the Scout hadn’t fallen asleep first, then certainly would have. The Scout’s face was slack and it was kind of strange to see him look so peaceful but it was nice to see him keeping still for more than a few seconds.  As much as he didn’t want to disturb his boyfriend’s sleep, the firebug would have to turn off the TV at some point.  The Pyro moved the sleeping young man as gently as he could to move over to the television.  It didn’t surprise him that the Scout continued to snooze on, unaffected by the sudden change in position.  With a  _flick,_ the old set turned off and the room became dark.  The Pyro stretched and yawned deeply, realizing just how tired he’d become.

The Pyro laid down next to the Scout and cuddled into him, trying to get comfortable enough to get some sleep too.  He pressed his lips to the Scout’s forehead, a quick, sweet kiss.  The Scout smiled in his sleep and held the firebug closer, the couple falling into a deep sleep – another one of their pastimes, the Pyro thought drowsily, before slipping into a dream of the two of them exploring the stars in a strange blue box.  

**Author's Note:**

> As stated in the main summary, all of these were written for shadowenza's Flashfire Week, back in July 2015.


End file.
